


Practice

by ifeelsinister



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Coming In Pants, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dry Humping, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 05:25:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9108403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifeelsinister/pseuds/ifeelsinister
Summary: Steve shakes his head. “I don’t wanna go dancing. I don’t really care about getting dates or even having it off with someone, even though I guess that’d be nice, too. I just… I wish I could at least get a kiss, y’know? I’m twenty-one years old and I still never been kissed. How pathetic is that?”





	

It’s almost two a.m. when Steve finally hears the door to their apartment opening, followed by the familiar shuffle of work-worn boots against the floor and a jingle of keys getting hung up on the hook. Steve puts down the book he’s been reading--trying to read, anyway; it’s hard to get much done when all he’s got to read by is an old lamp that gives off about as much light as a candle on a windy night--and marks his place, looking up just as Bucky stumbles into their shared bedroom.

Bucky looks about the same as he does when he gets home most Friday nights. His clothes are all wrinkled, even though Steve had watched him iron them all a few hours earlier before he left the apartment. The air around him smells like smoke and sweat and an unfamiliar, sickly-sweet perfume; his cheeks are flushed and pink, either from booze or from walking home in the cold--Steve figures it’s probably a fair mix of both. He’s got this big, lazy grin on his face, and if Steve squints, he thinks he can still see traces of dark red lipstick on Bucky’s cheek, faint and smudged from where he probably tried to wipe it off on the way home.

Steve scowls and opens his book up again even though he has no intention of reading it, mostly just so he won’t have to look Bucky in the eye. “Have fun?” he asks, trying not to sound too bitter.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees Bucky start to undress, peeling off his boots and outer clothes until he’s down to just his undershirt and boxers. “Stevie, you shoulda been there. For a Baptist, that Lucy Hawkins sure knows how to dance.”

“Looks like that ain’t the only thing she knows how to do,” Steve mumbles. Bucky either doesn’t hear him or he doesn’t feel like defending Lucy Hawkins’ honor, because he just flops down on his bed and lets out a content sigh.

“What’d you do all night while I was gone?” he asks, propping himself up on an elbow and giving Steve a look. “You better not’ve just sulked around the whole time.”

“I don’t  _ sulk _ ,” Steve insists, though his petulant tone doesn’t do much to help his case.

“No? Then what’s that you’re doin’ right now?” 

Steve glares at him over the top of his book before rolling over to his other side so that his back is to Bucky.

“Aw, c’mon, Stevie. Don’t be like that. Did something happen while I was gone?”

“Nothin’ happened, Buck,” Steve mutters.

“Then why are you so sore at me? I didn’t do somethin’, did I? If I did, I’m sorry--”

Steve lets out a frustrated groan, rolling back onto his back and staring up at the cracked ceiling. “You didn’t do anything, Buck. Not really. I’m just bein’ dumb.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a little huff. “I guess I’m just a little jealous, is all.”

Bucky’s quiet for a moment. “Jealous? What, that I went dancing without you? ‘Cause if I knew you wanted to go, I would’ve--”

“It’s not about the dancing,” Steve sighs. “It’s about… about stupid Lucy Hawkins.”

Bucky frowns. “Hey, Lucy ain’t stupid--”

“It’s about Lucy Hawkins and Mary Alice Novak from down the block and Katherine Turner from church and… and everyone else.” Steve can feel his face heating up the way it does sometimes when he gets upset, and he crosses his arms over his chest. “Every single week you go out and you got all these dames fallin’ at your feet, and I can’t get a single one to even  _ look _ at me.”

Steve is still glaring at the ceiling so he can’t see Bucky’s face, but he can practically feel the shift in Bucky’s expression. “C’mon, Steve. There’s plenty of dames out there who--”

“Don’t even start, Bucky. We both know it ain’t true.”

“Well, maybe you just need to get out there some more. You could come dancing with me sometime instead of just locking yourself up in here like a hermit every Friday night,” Bucky says, even though both he and Steve know it won’t make a difference. Steve’s been out dancing with Bucky plenty of times before, and it was the same story every time: Bucky’d find a couple of girls and ask them to dance with him and Steve, and eventually whatever dame had the misfortune of getting paired up with Steve would get disappointed and go find her friend. Then Bucky would leave with  _ two _ girls on his arm and Steve would be alone again.

Steve shakes his head. “I don’t wanna go dancing. I don’t really care about getting dates or even having it off with someone, even though I guess that’d be nice, too. I just… I wish I could at least get a kiss, y’know? I’m twenty-one years old and I still never been kissed. How pathetic is that?” 

“It’s not pathetic,” Bucky insists. He shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant as he adds, “Kissing ain’t all that great, anyhow.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he fights the urge to smile as he does it. “You’re a horrible liar.”

“Shut it. I’m tryin’ to help, punk,” Bucky replies, but there’s a smile on his face, too. Steve laughs a little, and once he stops, they lay in silence for a few minutes, the two of them only a few feet apart in their cramped bedroom. For a while, Steve stays quiet just so he can listen to Bucky’s breathing from across the room. It’s a nice sound--Bucky’s lungs are strong, his breaths even and powerful unlike the weak, shaky breaths that come from Steve’s own lungs most of the time.

“I wouldn’t even care who it was with, really,” Steve muses quietly after a while. Even though the lamp is still on, it’s so weak that it’s almost like they’re in the dark. It’s easier for Steve to talk about this stuff in the dark, he thinks, because then he doesn’t have to see Bucky’s face in case he judges Steve for something he says. Bucky almost never judges Steve, though. That’s one of the things Steve likes most about him. 

“You wouldn’t care who what was with?” Bucky asks, his voice a little drowsy. After all, it  _ is _ past two a.m., Steve realizes.

“My first kiss,” he says. “I just wanna be able to say I’ve done it, to know what it feels like. It could be with anyone.”  _ A dame or a fella,  _ he thinks, but doesn’t say out loud. Even though Bucky never judges Steve for anything, he’s still pretty sure that’s not something he should admit to Bucky. Not right now, at least. Maybe one day.

“Your first kiss should be with someone you like,” Bucky says. “Someone you trust.”

Steve frowns in the darkness. “I don’t really have anyone like that.” As an afterthought, he adds, “Except you.”

Bucky chuckles a little. “Well, jeez, Stevie. If you wanna get kissed so bad, you can just kiss me.”

Steve’s head whips around to look at where Bucky is lying under the covers beside him. Surely Steve didn’t hear him right. His hearing’s not too good, so it’s possible that maybe Bucky said something completely different and Steve just  _ heard _ him say Steve could kiss him…

“What’d you say?” Steve says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I said you could kiss me,” Bucky repeats without the slightest bit of hesitation. It’s amazing, Steve thinks, that his best friend never has any shame about anything, not even something like this. 

Steve’s pretty sure his whole face is red now; he just hopes it’s too dark for Bucky to be able to tell. “Are you drunk?”

Steve can hear the smile in Bucky’s voice. “No, I’m not  _ drunk _ ,” he replies. “Maybe still a little buzzed from earlier, but it’s mostly worn off by now.”

“You wanna kiss me,” Steve says, incredulous. 

“If it’ll make you feel better, sure. You don’t have to say yes, though. And if this is completely outta line and you wanna forget I ever offered, then I can just--”

“No!” Steve cuts him off. “No, I mean… I-I want to. If you’re offering. That would be… yeah. That would be great.” Steve licks his lips, his heart pounding hard and fast in his frail ribcage.

“Well, get over here, then.”

Steve takes a deep breath before pushing the blankets off of himself and walking the two steps it takes to get from his bed to Bucky’s. He sits down awkwardly on the edge of Bucky’s mattress, and Bucky’s sitting up now, too, his legs folded as he faces Steve. Now that they’re closer, Steve can see some of the details of Bucky’s face more clearly, though it’s still difficult in the dim room; Bucky’s hair is all messy, and there’s a hickey just barely visible on his collarbone, probably from Lucy Hawkins, but Steve doesn’t focus on that. He moves to sit directly in front of Bucky, mirroring his friend’s position and sitting close enough that his bony knees knock against Bucky’s.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” Bucky asks. Even for all his bravado and sexual experience, he’s still a gentleman at his core. Steve nods, probably a little too enthusiastically. He wonders if Bucky can hear how loud his heart is pounding.

“Okay,” is all Bucky says before he’s leaning forward. He rests a calloused but gentle hand on the back of Steve’s neck, his thumb stroking lightly across Steve’s sharp jaw. Steve shivers, and he isn’t entirely sure it’s because of the lack of heating in their apartment.

Steve feels Bucky’s breath fan across his face, and suddenly there’s a pair of lips on his, soft and warm, and Steve momentarily forgets how to breathe even though Bucky’s lips are just barely touching his. Bucky lingers there for a moment, almost like he’s building the suspense--teasing, the damn bastard--and then he’s pressing a little deeper, their lips fitting perfectly together like this was the sole purpose they were created for. The kiss is chaste, short, just a sweet little touch, but it makes Steve feel like his veins have turned into lightning. His hand comes up to clutch tightly at Bucky’s shirt, and even after Bucky pulls away, Steve doesn’t let go, almost worried that if he does then Bucky will disappear forever.

Steve stares at Bucky with wide eyes, and Bucky smiles at him, his hand still cupping Steve’s face. “Was that okay?” he asks, and all Steve can do is nod jerkily, panting a little through slightly-parted lips.

“Y-yeah,” he says. “That was okay.” He swallows, unable to tear his eyes away from Bucky’s soft blue ones, and murmurs, “Could we… could we try again?”

Instead of replying, Bucky just gives Steve that trademark James Buchanan Barnes smirk, the one that makes Steve feel weak in the knees, and then Bucky’s lips are on his again, warm and soft and goddamn addicting. This time, Bucky slides his tongue along Steve’s bottom lip, and  _ oh that’s nice-- _ Steve lets out a short gasp before parting his lips and allowing Bucky to deepen the kiss. Bucky tastes faintly like bourbon and smoke, and Jesus, Steve’s never been much of a drinker but he’d take up drinking whiskey every night if it meant getting to taste something even slightly similar to Bucky’s lips any time he wanted. Before he realizes what’s happening, his tongue is pressing against Bucky’s, and the slick slide of it is enough to make Steve want to come inside his pants right then and there, and oh, God, he’s really fucking hard. That was  _ not _ part of the plan. It’s one thing to kiss your best friend for practice, but it’s another thing to get so turned on from it that you just wanna climb in his lap and--

“Mm, Steve,” Bucky breathes against his mouth. His hands are tangled up in Steve’s hair, and when he tugs just a little bit, Steve can’t help the moan that escapes his lips. His face instantly goes hot with embarrassment, but before he has the chance to apologize, Bucky’s kissing him again, this time nibbling a little on Steve’s bottom lip and  _ Christ _ , Bucky’s gonna be the fucking death of him.

Steve doesn’t know exactly how he ended up Bucky’s lap, isn’t sure if Bucky’s the one who pulled him in or if Steve climbed on himself; all he knows is that suddenly he can feel Bucky’s cock through his pants, and he’s just as hard as Steve is. Bucky wraps his arms tight around Steve’s skinny torso as he continues to ravage his mouth, and Steve can’t fuckin’ help it, he grinds his hips down just a little against Bucky’s, desperate for some kind of friction.

Bucky’s got one hand in Steve’s hair and the other resting hot and heavy on his thigh, inching slowly up until his fingers are just barely brushing against Steve’s hard cock through his pajama pants. His breath is hot against the shell of Steve’s ear when he whispers, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“D-don’t stop,” Steve replies much too fast. “God, Bucky, I--”

“Shh, Stevie,” Bucky mutters, and then he’s cupping Steve firmly through his pants, and Steve can’t help himself, he whines high in his throat and grinds down against Bucky’s clothed dick, hands clutching at Bucky’s shirt so tightly his knuckles go white. Bucky strokes him a couple of times through the fabric of his sleep pants, a little wet spot growing where Steve’s cock is leaking like no tomorrow, before trailing his fingers along Steve’s waistband, his hand dipping inside Steve’s boxers. 

His warm, calloused fingertips have barely brushed against the sensitive, heated skin of Steve’s dick when Steve is whimpering, burying his face against Bucky’s neck so Bucky can’t see how fucking  _ wrecked _ and  _ close _ he is just from a couple of kisses and touches. “Buck,  _ don’t _ , if you touch me I’m gonna--fuck, I’m--”

“You’re gonna what?” Bucky murmurs, teasing, and Steve just whimpers again, his hips rolling down against Bucky’s in uncoordinated little jerks. “You gonna come, sweetheart?”

The only response Steve can manage is a broken “ _ nngh _ ,” but that little noise pretty much speaks for itself. Bucky chuckles, low and rough in his throat, but it’s cut off a little as his hips roll up to meet Steve’s, their cocks rubbing together through the fabric of their pants and creating the most fucking delicious friction between them. “S’alright, doll,” Bucky croons, a little breathless as Steve squirms in his arms. “Want you to come for me, Stevie.”

With that, he finally,  _ finally _ wraps his hand fully around Steve’s cock, barely able to give it a single stroke before Steve is tensing up and coming, biting his lip as hard as he can to hold back the loud moan that wants to break free. Bucky holds him through it, letting Steve grind frantically against him as he rides it out, and it doesn’t take long for Bucky to follow Steve over that precipice, eyes squeezed shut and a breathy grunt leaving his lips as he comes in his boxers. 

When the aftershocks have died down, Steve collapses against Bucky’s chest, chest heaving as he sucks in deep, shaky breaths. For a minute, Bucky’s scared he might have an asthma attack, but it’s like Steve can read his mind because before Bucky can ask, Steve’s muttering, “‘M fine, Buck, just gimme a minute.”

That, Bucky can do. His hand rubs gentle circles on Steve’s back as his breathing slows, still sitting in Bucky’s lap and leaning his head against Buck’s shoulder. Once his breathing’s returned to normal, Steve begrudgingly climbs off Bucky’s lap and sits next to him on the bed, looking over at Bucky with wide eyes as if he’s just now processing what happened.

“Have you ever, uh,” Steve asks slowly. “Done that before? With, with another guy?”

Bucky shrugs, looking down at his hands. “Maybe once or twice,” he says softly.

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” Bucky’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again. “I thought about telling you, but I didn’t want you to think I was…” He trails off, but he doesn’t have to finish for Steve to know what he means.

“I know, Buck,” Steve says. He reaches over and grabs Bucky’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “It’s okay. Me, too.”

Bucky meets Steve’s eyes, and even though it’s the middle of the night, Steve’s pretty sure the smile Bucky gives him could light up their whole apartment.

“Hey, Stevie?” Bucky asks after a moment.

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna… stay here tonight?” Bucky hesitates as he says the words, and it’s such a strange thing, to see Bucky hesitant and almost  _ nervous _ about inviting Steve to share his bed for the night.

It’s not like they’ve never shared a bed before. Hell, they shared one all the time when they were kids, before they hit puberty and Bucky’s dad told them they were too old for it, that. Even now, they share a bed in their shitty apartment once in awhile--either when it’s too cold and the heat isn’t working so they have to share body heat to keep from freezing during the night, or when Steve’s asthma is acting up and wants someone close by to help him through any midnight attacks. But this, this is the first time in a long while that they’ve shared beds just because. It makes Steve break out into a wide smile, his chest feeling warm despite the chill of their apartment.

He crawls back into Bucky’s bed, and they lie down side by side so that they’re facing each other, their faces only centimeters away. Bucky wraps an arm around Steve’s skinny waist and pulls him close, their legs tangling together beneath the covers. For a moment, they just stare at each other in the dark, not saying anything until Steve finally speaks up again.

“Buck?”

“Hmm.”

“Could we maybe kiss some more? You know, for practice.”

He can practically hear the smirk in Bucky’s voice as he replies. “Sure, Steve. For practice.”

They don’t stop kissing until the sun rises.

**Author's Note:**

> At long last I have returned with a fic that took me forever to write even though it's only 3k words. I hope you enjoy this super stereotypical, overdone plot. Also, feel free to check out my tumblr where I post about marvel and fan fiction: thebisexualwintersoldier.tumblr.com


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